


Forget Me Not

by luminouskags



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Heavy Angst, I hope you cry haha, Iwaizumi Hajime - Freeform, M/M, So much angst, Sorry Not Sorry, Underage Drinking, iwaoi - Freeform, no happy ending, oikawa tooru - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:42:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23948620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luminouskags/pseuds/luminouskags
Summary: Sometimes, leaving memories in the past and forgetting them is better than remembering them. This way, you're hurt less.
Relationships: Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Kudos: 18





	Forget Me Not

**Author's Note:**

> ookay!! please read this before you start reading! hi guys..so I churned this heavy-angst iwaoi fic in like 5 days because i was inspired by one of the gc's im in on twitter haha. it really doesn't have a happy ending and i also didn't know what to write for the summary because it's such an odd fic. it's also not my best work but i tried really hard to make it as believable as possible; there are many plot holes so be aware lmfaooooo hehe. it was mostly written at night so forgive me for any mistakes. please enjoy the fic and leave kudos or criticisms! both are appreciated. thank u!! <3

It’s only once they’ve actually graduated from high school does Oikawa really, truly realise his feelings. It’s not anything which dawns on him out of the blue, rather it’s something he’s been harbouring for ages now, keeping his feelings at bay every time he takes a sneak peek at his best friend. But it only really dawns on him just _how_ much he _really_ likes Iwaizumi, and it’s terrifying and makes him feel _so_ , so vulnerable.

“Tooru, you doin’ okay?” Iwaizumi is sitting beside him, wide smile on his face as he takes a break from talking to Mattsun and Hanamaki, absorbing the summer heat. “Here,” he offers him his coke can, “you seem a little red.”

Oikawa swats his hand away and pouts, “Iwa-chan, surely you’re not giving me your flimsy can of coke when your extra large, extra ice bubble tea is sitting right next to you waiting to be _salvaged_ by me.” He beckons at the plastic cup with grabby hands, setter pout set firmly on his lips.

“Piss off,” Iwaizumi shakes his head, pushing the half-drunken can into Oikawa’s chest, “you either take it or you don’t it’s up to you.” There’s still the hint of a smile on his face, and Oikawa’s heart threatens to lurch past his throat. Iwa-chan really is so beautiful, with his lax hair and tanned skin; Oikawa could stare at him for days. He smiles.

“Creep,” Hajime counters, shrugging as he turns back to the mini argument between Matsukawa and Hanamaki. He goes to take a sip from the coke, but Oikawa snatches it from him, grin wide as he slugs down the rest of the warm coke.

“So generous, Iwa-chan.” Iwaizumi rolls his eyes but laughs nonetheless, dragging Tooru closer by the arm as they refocus on the conversation.

“Hm, I should get going.” Mattsun stands up from their seating on the steps, slinging his bag on his shoulder as he peers down, “see you guys same time next week?”

“Hold on, I’ll come with you!” Hanamaki goes to grab his bag too, nodding at the remaining boys left on the steps, “you better not be late next week, uglies.”

Oikawa smirks, “Oh ho! It proved out to work in your favour anyway,” he cradles the empty can between his hands, “all of that snogging and smoochi-“

He’s hit square in the face by Issei’s bag before he can finish his sentence, a dark red blush blooming on his face as he bends down to grab his bag, “shut the fuck up Tooru, don’t make me expo-“

“ _Okay_! Okay you win!” Tooru rubs his nose, pouting and sits up properly, waving the two boys away, “off you go now, boys! You’ve hurt me plenty!”

The duo roll their eyes and head off, waving at the remaining 3rd years.

“Snogging?” Iwaizumi scrunches his nose, head tilted up in thought, “what do you mean?”

“Oh my god Iwa-chan,” Oikawa mumbles teasingly, shaking his head as he sighs, “I know sometimes it’s a little hard for you to think but you can’t be _that_ dense.”

“Oi!” Hajime thwacks the side of his head lightly, “I’m not dense. I just didn’t realise.”

“Mhm. Sure.”

It’s just past 7pm, with the sun starting to dip beneath the horizon as the breeze turns cooler. Both boys bask in the comfortable silence, arms pressed against each other as they share body heat in an effort to stay warm.

“You’re really planning to fly to Argentina then, huh?” Iwaizumi is the first to break the silence, and Oikawa turns his head to answer, retort dying on his lips as he stares at the older. The sunset paints Iwaizumi’s face a pretty pink and amber; brown eyes glistening as he follows the path of sun, lips pulled into a serene smile.

“Y-yeah,” Oikawa stutters, hands fumbling as he looks down, closing his eyes to steady his breathing, “yeah I guess I am.” There’s an awkward silence, and obviously Oikawa’s loudmouth opens before he can even think properly of what to say as he looks up to Hajime, “don’t miss me too much Iwa-chan!”

“I’m gonna miss you so much.” Iwaizumi stares straight up at Oikawa, arm moving down to hold Oikawa’s hand in his, “promise me you’ll take care of yourself. Properly.”

So many thoughts are rushing through Tooru’s mind; the way Iwaizumi’s eyes are hazy as he stares at him, his grip firm on Oikawa’s hand as the twinkling of the stars begin to sparkle in Hajime’s eyes. His heart is beating so fast hes sure he’d cough it out straight at the shorter’s’ face. Why was Iwaizumi acting so sappy? He was still here for the next few weeks, surely this didn’t need to sound so urgent?

Tooru squeezes Iwaizumi’s hand in his and smiles softly, “Of course. I promise.”

It’s much darker now, and Oikawa unconsciously moves closer to the older, blood beating in his ears as he thinks his next thought through. Iwa-chan was being so genuine with his thoughts…he should be too, right?

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa starts, body threatening to convulse, “I-I like you.”

There’s a beat of silence from the other end.

“Obviously, I like you too, Toor-“

“ _No_ , no not like that,” Oikawa shakes his head as he turns his body, completely facing the the black haired boy, right hand grabbing onto the others. “I like you more than..more than friends. I want to be something more...yeah. You’ve always been there for me, and you’ve always understood me and never given up on me. You’re like my backbone, my support, my working right knee that I haven’t had.” He laughs nervously, grip tightening on Hajimes hands, “I like you so much, Hajime. Please..please give me chance.”

He feels Iwaizumi stiffen a little, and his heart cracks just a bit. “Oh.”

 _Oh_.

Had he just completely misread the situation?

Oikawa recoils his hands as if they were on fire and shakes his head, laughing, “only if you want to obviously…I wouldn’t put our friendship on the line like that.”

“Oikawa-“

Oikawa cuts him off before Iwaizumi can get far and beams, “really Iwa-chan it’s okay. I don’t think I’d have it in me to make you do something you’d regret. Just forget that ever happened..please.

He feels warmth in his hand again, hand turning clammy when he realises Hajime is once again holding his hand.

“Hear me out, please?” Iwaizumi asks, peering into Oikawa’s misty eyes. “It’s not that I don’t like you, Oikawa..it’s just more…I’ve never really thought about it like that, to be honest? We’ve always been there for each other yes, and I don’t plan on letting you go that easily..but anything outside of friendship never really occurred to me.”

He hums a little, and Oikawa wonders whether he’s saying all of this on purpose.

It stings. It really stings.

“Iwa-chan-“

“Maybe in the future, Tooru. It’s not a bad idea.” He grins at Oikawa, as if every problem had just been extinguished from the air around them. Oikawa smiles despite feeling like shit, and takes out his left hand to reach for the watered down bubble tea instead.

“You better stick to that.” He hears himself say, sipping at his drink as the sound of Hajime’s laughter echoes in his ears. He’s not sure what to feel. It was neither an acceptance or a rejection; if anything it felt like a mindless bubble floating between the little cloud of thoughts they both shared. He knew Iwaizumi meant for his best interest… but the fact that he referred to it as a mere _idea_ clung onto Oikawa’s pessimism like a leech.

It was too much.

“Ughhhhhhhh,” he groans dramatically, getting up from his position and stretching, “I’m gonna get going now. I’m hungry and mother dearest probably wants me home for dinner.”

Iwaizumi frowns and looks up at the taller, “we can get food together if you want, I won’t see you until next week anyway. My treat!”

God, did he want to kill him or something?

Oikawa laughs wryly, tossing the drink back messily at the shorter still sitting on the park steps, “no need to burden your wallet, Iwa-chan! It’s getting late anyway, you should head home. See ya!” He twists and starts walking away without waiting for Iwaizumi to respond, steps heavy as Hajime’s stare burns into his retreating figure.

* * *

He doesn’t actually end up going straight home, opting to stop by at a convenience store to get a little snack. He’s aimlessly walking around the store, shoulders hunched as he replays the scene over and over again in his mind. It was his fault in the first place, confessing at such a stupid time with such stupid words. Why had he done it in the first place? Why couldn’t he have just kept his mouth shut and enjoyed the remnants of the sunset with his best friend?

Oikawa rubs his eyes and sighs, stopping to look over at the shelf to his left. The Chuhai* cans are lined up neatly in rows, ranging in different flavours. He sighs mentally, if only he was of age. He leans back a bit to check for the employee sitting at the kiosk, smiling when he sees a girl, possibly a few years younger than him slouching over her phone, black hair tucked behind her ears. He grins, grabbing 2 cans of the lemon flavoured cocktail and saunters over to the counter, shoulders pulled back as a smirk graces his lips. Lightwork.

He’s already drunk by the time he opens his second can, body swaying a little as he makes his way home. A few bypassers have glared disapprovingly at him, but he pays them no heed, slurping down the rest of the sparkly drink as he turns into his road, feeling up the house keys in his pocket.

He’d lied earlier. His mum for sure was still at work, and he knew that Iwaizumi knew that too, but Oikawa couldn’t be bothered to come up for a logical explanation to leave. Iwaizumi wasn’t that thick either, and Oikawa was glad he hadn’t questioned him on it and had let him go.

He stops outside his house, vision a little blurry as he observes the infrastructure, eyes darting back and forth until they linger on his fathers’ black car. Oikawa pulls the keys out from his pocket, shifting his weight onto his left leg as he idly spins the keys around his finger. He just wants to sit in the car, there’s no harm to that, right?

Brain clogged, he shrugs, unlocking the car door and slipping into the driver’s seat easily, sliding around in the leather seats. His dad was supposed to gift the car to him anyway, so he might as well make himself at home since it’s going to be his in the future.

_Maybe in the future, Tooru. It’s not a bad idea._

Oikawa grimaces, head pounding at the recurring thought. He wants to scream; he wants to cry and yet all that comes out is his weak fist pounding against the steering wheel. He hates himself so much, hates Iwaizumi so much for being such a considerate person, hates the fact that he couldn’t properly express his emotions to his best friend, hates the fact that he may or may not have severed their ties a little. He grips at his hair and pulls, hunching over the steering wheel as short, strained sobs escape his lips.

Without thinking, he slips the key into the ignition and turns, hands clutching the wheel as the engine comes to life. He reverses onto the main road, driving a little sloppy before pulling away completely, cruising down the empty road. His brain tells him that hes being overdramatic and reckless, but he shrugs the thought away bitterly, anger surging through his blood as he presses harder on the pedal. He wants everything gone.

With the alcohol numbing his senses, Oikawa breathes a sigh of relief, eyes foggy as he turns left onto the main road. The thoughts are still rushing through his mind repeatedly, but he shakes his head, eyes focusing and unfocusing on the road in front of him. He spots couples walking on the pavement, spots friends enjoying their night out after late-night academy. And yet, all that’s going through his head is _Iwaizumi, Iwaizumi, Iwaizumi._

The stinging sensation returns to his eyes and he screams, leaning his head back against the headrest as the pedal is pressed all the way down. He hears a horn from his right and he spins his head, eyes widening at the nearing blinding headlights, sudden desperation clinging to his limbs as he changes the gears faster in order to move out the way, foot tirelessly pressing against the pedal.

The car refuses to move quicker, and Oikawa is filled with a sudden feeling of dread, goose bumps surging on top of his skin as his breathing becomes delayed. He feels his body jerk harshly against the interior of his car, hands losing their grip on the steering wheel as his head smashes against the dashboard.

He feels nothing.

* * *

The sound of beeping resonates in his ears, his body rigid underneath the stiff blankets. He feels parched, mouth feeling as if he hadn’t had water in years, head pounding as if someone was repeatedly smashing his head against the wall. Oikawa opens his eyes slowly, lids threatening to fall shut as the artificial lights glare down at his face. He goes to move, but winces, his legs struck with a sudden thrall of pain.

“Oh, Oikawa-San, you’re awake.” A tired voice emanates from his left and he moves his head, coming face to face with a nurse. “You shouldn’t move too much; your body is still refusing to properly respond to the IVF.” Her lips are pulled taut as she speaks, leaving Oikawa guessing as to whether he had upset her in his sleep.

“Why am I here?” He chooses to ask, eyelids involuntarily closing as he continues speaking, energy seeping out his bones, “what happened?”

“You don’t remember?” He hears her ask, the clanging of metal ringing loudly in his ears. He shakes his head, actions almost minute as he breathes out a soft, “no.”

“You were in a car accident, Oikawa-san,” her voice is gentler now, farther away, or maybe he’s just slipping back into sleep again.

“Oh.” He murmurs, body untensing as he falls unconscious.

The next time he wakes up he remembers where he is, and what happened to him. But for some reason, anytime he tries to think harder as to what actually happens, he’s left with a blur of jumbled grey and blurry memories; it’s annoying him because he remembers nothing. Was he driving a car? Why was he driving in the first place?

Oikawa shakes his head and sits up, drinking heavily-chlorinated water out of the plastic cup, zoning out as he watches the mute TV show being broadcasted on the screen. He’d just have to wait until the nurse got back. She ends up coming back with a doctor and a police officer in tow, his eyebrows furrowing at the unusual visitor.

“Oikawa-san,” the doctor greets him first, professional smile hanging off her face as she sits on the edge of his bed, “I’m Dr Yui, I worked on you earlier. How are you feeling?”

Oikawa stares at her, his gaze shifting up to the police officer behind her, and then the nurse to his left. “Umm,” he starts, confused, “I’m feeling okay.”

Everything is so strange. He’s sitting in a hospital, injured to the bone with no attending parent or friend. The ‘ _visitors’_ in his room are all wearing masked expressions, and Oikawa isn’t stupid to know that they’re keeping something from him. His heart hammers in his throat, though it feels empty and devoid of anything. He feels like he’s missing out something big. But there’s just a faint thrum at the back of his head, and if he thinks really, _really_ hard, he knows it’s just the machinery on the hospital floor below.

“That’s good to hear,” she nods at him, looking down at her clipboard, “Nurse Akari told me you don’t remember anything that happened. Is that true?”

The way she asks the questions is almost passive aggressive, as if hes lying and she’s trying to claw the information out of him.

“I got into a car accident.” He says, voice lifting up at the end making his response sound more like a question than an answer.

“Yes,” she says, voice unnervingly calm, “do you remember anything else?”

He tries to think really hard, but once again his mind refuses to cooperate, leaving him trailing behind hazy recollections. His body sinks into the bed, “No, I don’t. I’m really sorry.” Oikawa doesn’t know why he’s apologising, but the suffocating tension in the atmosphere is almost begging for it.

“Hm, as I had thought.” Dr Yui smiles at him, turning her head to whisper a few words to the man standing behind her. The man in question nods understandingly and leaves, leaving Oikawa behind with the two healthcare workers.

“It seems as if you’re experiencing retrograde amnesia – which is quite common in patients who’ve had a head injury. You’ll struggle to remember memories from before the injury – which in your case was the car crash. Anything prior the accident will have completely been eliminated from your memory, or you may just not be able to access it currently if you’re lucky.”

She pauses, letting Oikawa take in all the information in. It must be that, since all he remembers is playing volleyball with his team at school and going out with his friends. _Friends_ …why were the faces in his memories blurry?

“The loss of memories could also be the effect of your inebriation right before the accident.”

Oikawa’s heart stops, the ticking of the clock the only sound in the room.

“Inebriation?” He repeats, eyes flitting around his white blanket and then back up to the Doctor’s face, “I was drunk?”

The doctor nods, emotion sparse on her countenance, “yes.”

He takes a deep breath, praying to anything out there that the answer to the next question would be negative. “Was I…was I driving?”

“…Yes.”

Tooru’s head falls into his hands, his eyes welling up with tears as he bunches his hair in his hand. There’s no memory of the accident, no memory of him getting drunk, yet the guilt which flows freely through his entire body is so overwhelming he feels like he’s going to pass out once again. There’s not enough air in his lungs, and the pain which shoots up his right leg as his body curls over itself is unbearable.

“Oikawa-San! Please, breathe! Steady your breathing!”

There are arms looped around his frame, pulling him upright as he makes eye contact with the Doctor.

“Look at me and inhale and exhale with me. You need to keep your heart rate steady.” Her voice is strong and demanding, but Oikawa can’t keep up with her, hands trembling as they grip the doctor’s forearms. “Did I hit someone? Please tell me! Was anyone hurt!?”

His mind is working overdrive, and he feels bile rise up his throat, tears running freely down his face as his breathing becomes increasingly laboured.

“Oikawa-San you need to calm down before I can tell you. Now inhale…and exhale. Keep it going, you’re doing great.” She smiles soothingly at him, and he feels himself relax just a little, breathing calming as his eyesight clears.

“Good.” She praises, and although he feels much better than he did minutes before, something inside him tells him he’s plotted his own demise.

She doesn’t actually tell him anything more, leaving Oikawa to fend for himself as he takes the time to unpick all the information he’s given. He’s stressed, yes, given the fact that he had committed not one but two crimes in a single night. He laughs humourlessly, _pick a damn struggle_.

“Tooru..”

Exhausted, he lifts his head once again as the door of his ward opens, chest feeling inexplicably tight as he sees the distraught expression on his mother’s face. She lunges at him with open arms, wrapping them around his frame as she attempts to quieten her sobs, “God… I am so so _so_ glad you’re okay.”

“Mum,” his own voice breaks as he settles in his mothers embrace, body trembling as she rubs her hand down his back gently, “I-I am so sorry! Mum I am so sorry!”

She tries to shush him, eventually shaking her head and breaking away, “how dare you worry me like this!? Do you have any idea of what’s happened? Tooru you were so careless!”

She breaks down infront of his eyes, and Oikawa feels his lungs constrict as he himself begins to weep, “I-I..I’m sorry.” He’s hiccupping, humiliation swallowing him whole as his mother stares at him reproachfully.

“I am so angry at you,” she says, poking a finger at the centre of her chest, tears trickling down her weathered cheeks. _She probably hadn’t slept in days_. “But I’m also so glad you’re alive.” Her gaze softens, chin wobbling as she tries to contain her tears.

Oikawa nods and swallows, the rush of blood hammering in his ears. He doesn’t even know the full story yet and he’s a mess. It can only keep getting worse from here on, his mothers expression proves that right to his very face.

“I don’t remember,” he whispers, hands holding onto his mothers for dear life, “I don’t remember anything. Everything’s grey.”

His mother nods understandingly, squeezing her sons hands, “I know Tooru, they told me.”

“No.” He begins, blinking rapidly as he tries to control breathing, “I don’t remember anything mum. Not the accident. Not the drinking. I don’t even remember what you cooked 2 days ago. I don’t remember my _friends_.”

Her hands still in his, and he sees the colour drain from skin. “..you don’t remember your friends?”

Oikawa shakes his head desperately, “please..tell me! I don’t remember them and it’s killing me! I feel like I’m missing out something big! Someone important! I just can’t- I can’t figure out who!” He’s crying again, feeling pathetic and helpless as he leans his forehead onto his mother’s shoulder. She runs her hand through his hair lovingly, saying nothing as he continues to whimper.

“You have no right to be crying like that, considering the amount of damage you have done.”

Oikawa doesn’t need to look up to know it’s his father. He feels a chill run down his spine at his father’s tone of voice, but no matter how hard he tries to sit properly, the stinging in his legs is beyond bearable. He doesn’t trust himself to speak, so he doesn’t, deciding to keep mute as he hears his father’s footsteps near the hospital bed.

“Mistakes can be fixed, Tooru,” his voice is icy, devoid of any emotion, “this was not a mistake. This is a criminal offence. Multiple criminal offences.”

Oikawa can almost feel the flick against his forehead hanging in the air, despite the fact he’s seeking refuge in his mother’s shoulder.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you!”

“Lay off him!” He hears his mother hiss back, shame crippling over his shoulders as she continues to take his side, “he’s just had an accident! Give him a break!”

“I apologise, Dad.” Oikawa murmurs, leaning back as he looks up at the older man, glassy eyes reflected in his own. His dad sighs, plonking down on the armchair situated next to the bed, defeated.

“An apology doesn’t mean anything right now.” His voice is softer than his words as he rubs his eyes, staring across at his son, “atleast you’re safe.” He offers a small smile before looking away, distracting himself with the lack of décor in the room.

* * *

He’s kept in the hospital for the next few days, regular check-ups followed by daily injections in both of his legs. He’s told he can no longer play any sort of sport for a long period of time, the car accident causing permanent damage on his already raptured knee. He had torn his meniscus, and the bone tendon in his knees suffered several high degree lesions, leaving him unable to support his own weight entirely.

 _No more volleyball_ , Dr Yui had said, leaving no room for argument as she moved on to discuss treatment further.

A criminal report had been filed away under his name too, his punishment being a fat lump of a fine and community service for 6 months, due to the fact he was still a juvenile. Even by his own standards was this punishment too weak.

 _“We’ve been looking into the case further..and the car accident wasn’t entirely your fault so far. However, you still consumed alcohol despite being underage and drove a vehicle intoxicated. Charges have still been pressed against you.”_ Oikawa remembers the policeman’s words, nodding as they entered one ear and left the other. At this point, he was just numb.

Days seemed to just pass by emptily as he lay holed up in his room at home, the only source of comfort being a small alien plushie which rested next to his pillow, the green fleece worn down but still soft, the eyes of the alien wide and hollow. Oikawa stared at it, before lying on his back and holding the plushie up to face him. He was sure this was a memento of some sort, otherwise it wouldn’t have been neatly stacked on his bed. The alien stared back, and Oikawa found himself stroking its abnormally large head.

“Tell me your secrets,” he whispered, caressing its green coat, “who gave you to me?” Of course, the alien didn’t speak back no matter how much Oikawa wished it would, so he ended up shrugging and hugged the toy close to his chest, falling into another dreamless sleep.

The first time his _friends_ had come over, his heart twinged with pain as he remembered snippets of their time together at school, and he nearly burst out crying as some of the faces in his memories finally came to life.

“Mattsun! Makki!” He had practically yelled as they entered his bedroom, wanting nothing more than to jump up at them and hold them close for forever. But he couldn’t due to his bandaged legs, and he opted to move back and forth like an overexcited puppy on his bed, arms wide as he urged them to hurry up and hug him.

“TOORU!!”

They had been equally as excited, crushing Oikawa’s weakened body with strong arms, and he hadn’t felt this at home in ages. Their reunion was teary, the 3 boys locked in each other’s embrace for what felt like hours.

“You remember us! We were told you had you had forgotten your memory.” Hanamaki sat back against Oikawa’s headrest, Matsukawa sitting opposite the pair, “they didn’t let us in to visit you incase it triggered another panic attack. We came nearly every day. They said it was dangerous for you to see us so soon.”

Mattsun nodded, arms wrapped around one of Oikawa’s spare pillow, “yeah they were so annoying. As if you were some damsel in distress who couldn’t see her old friends or she’d be cursed.” He pouted, his messy black hair falling into his eyes, “we just wanted to see our Trashykawa!”

The name caused fire to roar in Oikawa’s chest and he laughed loudly clapping his hands, missing the calculated warning Hanamaki gave Mattsun.

“God, this fills me with so much euphoria,” Oikawa wiped fake tears away from his eyes, shifting his legs a little, “I haven’t laughed this much in ages. This feels so good ughhhh. Hospital life is _not_ fun. I never want to return there again.”

He closed his eyes and shuddered; the daily jabs in his legs were not a pleasant memory.

“What happened to you anyway? We left you guy- we left you for one evening and you go ahead and get yourself into an accident,” Mattsun stuttered a little, the tiny action completely going over Tooru’s head.

“You know what? I don’t actually know,” he started, arms instinctively going down to grab the green alien, “I’ve heard bits and bobs of the story..but they don’t seem to flow smoothly, y’know? It’s like everyone interjects here and there and then expect me to take it in. I just..I don’t know. It’s frustrating hearing all the others tell me about something which happened to me…and yet no matter how hard I try to remember, that portion of my brain remains locked like some stupid side quest.” He pauses to laugh a little, glancing at his two friends, “what have you guys heard? Maybe it would help me piece together some of the information.”

He sees the visible intake of breath Mattsun takes, but hears Hanamaki’s voice instead, “hm, we know that you got drunk like an idiot and then drove off in your dad’s car. And-“

Oikawa moved his head forward, frowning at the darkening expression appearing on Maki’s face, “and?”

“And the fact that a lorry rammed into the side of your car and you went skidding..” Issei finishes off, refusing to make eye contact with Oikawa.

“Guys?” He asks, confused, “there’s something you’re keeping from me..I can tell. I may have lost access to some parts of my brain but I’m not entirely stupid either.”

Hanamaki sighs from beside him, hand lifting and resting on Oikawa’s shoulder, “we’re not keeping anything from you, Tooru. It’s just weird how we’re the ones having to tell you…it’s like reliving your trauma. It feels odd.”

Oikawa hums, finally agreeing with something.

“Tell me about it!” He says, eyebrows furrowing as he goes to crack his fingers, “I keep feeling like I’m missing out on something. There’s something huge in my brain..like a big part me which has been yanked away from me. Everything feels so hollow.”

He rubs his nose and sighs, “the doctor told me I was experiencing retrograde amnesia or something like that, temporary memory loss which locked my memories away but I’m starting to feel like it isn’t so _temporary_ after all. I can’t even play volleyball anymore, and you know the worst bit? When she told me I wasn’t allowed to play I felt nothing. Volleyball was- _is_ my life and yet when she told me I just accepted it as though it held no special meaning to be. After all, _you_ were my wing spiker right Maki? And yet..”

He trails off, the room falling into deafening silence.

“Well,” Matssun claps his hands, beaming at Oikawa, “this is all well and sad and that’s exactly what we didn’t come for. Can we get some lightening of the mood please?”

Oikawa rolls his eyes but chuckles nonetheless, and they fall into comfortable conversation. They stay for dinner and then leave, promising to visit Oikawa as often as they could.

“UGHHHHH!! You’re here again?? Get out!” Oikawa throws a pillow at the duo as they make their way into his bedroom. They really did keep to their promise, visiting Oikawa daily for the past few weeks. He would never admit it, but the thought of them caring so much about him made him giddy – every time they visited, portions of his memoirs would come to life.

“We bought snacks!” The brown haired boy raised a plastic bag, easily dodging the pillow as he made his way to Oikawa’s bed. “How is the princess feeling~”

“Shut up,” Oikawa snaps, yanking the bag out of Takahiro’s hand, “let me see what you bought for me.” He gasps in delight, taking out two plastic wrapped treats, “you bought me milk bread!”

And so, they fall back into their natural routine. Talking, insulting and just enjoying each other’s company. But for some reason, Oikawa feels a lot more left out today. He sees the flittering gazes both boys share, the secretive glance when the other isn’t looking, hands brushing against each other more often than is normal. He feels more meaningless than he has in ages, the darkness which he had thought he had left behind looming over his shoulder’s once again. He feels lost. Trapped. Someone else is meant to be here for him..there’s another person deep in his mind he just can’t place his finger on. Something which never left him.

“Oi! Tooru!” Mattsun waves his hand infront of his face, drinking his banana milk, “earth to Tooru hellooooo!”

Energy drained, Oikawa scoffs and looks away, knees bunching up at his chest. If they’d noticed the shift in atmosphere, neither boy said anything, and Oikawa was grateful for that.

“Your legs are much better right? Why don’t you get a damn haircut. Looking like Shrek out here.” Matssun snickers, making Oikawa throw the nearest object at his face, “you talk _so_ much. Shut the fuck up.”

“That’s bold coming from you, _Daiyou Sama_ ,” Matssun laughs, grabbing onto the plushie, “oh my god! It’s Iwa-chan!”

Oikawa’s face snaps up, heart beating as the name rings a faint bell in both his chest and his mind. “W-what?”

Mattsun peers back innocently, the alien in his arms, “what?”

“What did you just say?” Oikawa asks, sitting up properly as he nods towards the stuffed toy.

“I-I said alien-chan. Why?”

“No,” Oikawa shakes his head, eyebrows knitting together, “No you didn’t. I may have suffered a head injury but my ears work fine. Who’s name did you just say? Matssun don’t lie to me. What did you just say.” He’s growling at this point but he’s so close – so close to the light going off in his brain.

“Tooru, relax,” Makki’s voice echoes by his left, “what’s gotten into you? He said alien-chan.”

Oikawa can feel his tear ducts tingling, and he curses himself mentally as his voice cracks, “why are you both lying to me? I know I heard something! I recognised it! Don’t do this to me guys what the hell.” He’s clutching his head again, feeling like hes back at the hospital.

“Hey..hey it’s okay,” He feels hands rub his back, but there’s a sort of tentativeness to it _. They’re hesitating_ , Oikawa thinks. He needs his own space.

“Sorry.” He mumbles, breathing deeply before looking up, “didn’t mean to lash out at you guys like that. Probably just need some fresh air.” He laughs for effect, body sagging in relief as he sees both boys relax.

“Come to think of it, you’ve been holed up in your room for ages. Your hair’s gotten so long too,” Mattsun scrunches his nose in fake disgust, touching a strand of Oikawa’s hair with his thumb and forefinger, “ew and greasy!”

“Shut up!”

“Maybe we should take a trip to the salon,” Hanamaki suggests, eyeing Oikawa’s hair, “you never let yourself look bad. Especially your ‘oh so delightful milk chocolate swept hair’.”

Oikawa grumbles, “I was in an accident.”

Both boys gasp, “all the more reason to not look like shit! Get your ugly ass up, Crappykawa, we’re going right now.”

The nickname sets off alarm bells in his head, and even though just seconds before he was thoroughly persuaded to go and fix his appearance, he shakes his head instead. What he needs more than anything right now, is answers.

“You guys need it more than me,” he sneers, chin tilted up as he stared down at the boys, “not even injured and yet still ugly.”

“You wound me!” Mattsun placed his hand on his chest for effect, lips pulled up at the edges.

“Good! Now go!” Oikawa stands up, yanking both boys along and ushering them out the door.

“Sheesh! Just tell us you hate us!” Mattsun yells, already making his way down the stairs, “and make sure you get that haircut!”

“Send a photo when you get one!” Maki shouts after, and then the house is silent again.

 _Photos_.

Of course. Why didn’t he think of it before.

Oikawa grabs his phone, hands shaking as he clicks on the tiny gallery icon. But there are no photos, obviously, his old phone had disintegrated along with the car. He sits on the bed, leg shaking as he thinks harder. There must be something. Somewhere.

He looks around the room, eyes zeroing on the emptiness of his walls save for the few volleyball posters. But there’s no school photo, no class photo, no photos of him and his friends. He vaguely remembers setting up a small pinboard to stick all his photos on.

 _This feels almost staged_ , he breathes, getting up to rummage through his drawers as if he hadn’t done so countless times. There’s nothing, and it just doesn’t make sense. He’s a sucker for memories, especially if they included him, so there must be photos _somewhere_.

Photo albums.

He jumps at his thought, feeling stupid and jittery as he makes his way downstairs for the first time in what feels like years. He hobbles along the corridor and into the living room, stopping at the drawers which lined one side of the room.

_Bingo!_

There are bundles of albums, but his eye is drawn towards the fattest, grey book right at the bottom of the albums, as though it was meant to be hidden from him. Quivering, he grabs the album and makes his way to the sofa, feeling the soft leather cover. He opens the first page, and sees himself as a baby, roughly 6 months old, dressed up in fancy 90’s babywear or whatever. He keeps flicking through the pages, seeing himself age up, but it’s just him alone so far.

Or so he thought.

He flicks the page again and sees himself with a boy roughly his age, with black, spiky hair, wearing a Godzilla t shirt and holding a volleyball in his hand, large smile unwavering on his face. Oikawa is there too, hands reaching above his head, smiling indicatively at the boy. They’re probably about 5..but Oikawa remembers. He remembers the first time he played volleyball; remembers the first time he’d hit a ball so hard his palm had turned a violent red.

_He remembers._

There’s tears falling from his eyes before he knows it, hands trembling as he flips through the album, every photo containing the boy with spiky hair. He’s reached the last page of the book, and finds an envelope stuffed with more photos. He pulls them out hastily, sobbing loudly as he stares at a photo of him at graduation just a few months back.

_Him and Iwaizumi._

He shuffles through the photos, laughing loudly and crying and feeling freer than he had in ages. He traces Iwaizumis features with his finger, staring so hard at him in the photo he was sure he’d burn a hole through it.

Oikawa lets his head fall back and exhales, smile set in place as his eyes droop close.

“Hajime Iwaizumi.” He says, name rolling sweetly off of his tongue. As if on cue, all the monochrome areas of his brain bloom with colour; and he finally remembers volleyball properly, remembers Aoba Johsai, remembers every, single memory with his childhood best friend.

_Everything._

The smile slips off his face as soon as it had come, his eyes shooting open.

The car accident. He…he remembers.

His head starts to throb, his brain working overdrive as it visualises the time right before his accident. The park, the confession, Iwaizumi, the convenience store, the alcohol, his father’s car. It all comes back crystal clear, and it hurts, the toll on his brain too much for him to take. His head lolls to the side and he’s out, repeating the night of the accident over and over again.

* * *

“Tooru, Tooru wake up. I’m home.”

His mum’s voice rings in his ears and he opens his eyes, blinking a few times to adjust to the lighting. How long had he knocked out for?

“How are you feeling?” She asks, voice uncharacteristically sweet as she peers down at him. Oikawa sits up properly, shoulders bunching up at the crick of his neck.

He yawns first, and then lazily smiles up at his mum, “I remember.”

“What?”

“I,” he stops to cover his yawn again, “I remember. I remember everything.”

She blinks at him, eyebrows furrowed, “how?”

How? Oikawa frowns, glancing at his mother.

“What do you mea- nevermind. The album.” He points to the grey book in his lap, “I don’t know why I didn’t think of looking for photos earlier. I wouldn’t have suffered for this long if I had just used my brain.”

He chuckles fondly, staring down at the album as images of Iwaizumi flitter through his brain. Now that he thinks of it, why hadn’t Iwa-chan visited during the past few weeks? It had only been Hanamaki and Matssun the entire time, where was his best friend?

 _Could it have been your confession?_ His brain unhelpfully supplies and he cringes, thinking back to how he had acted.

That could be a possibility, but then again Hajime wasn’t that petty…and he’d made a considerate offer. Oikawa’s expression sours for a second…why hadn’t Iwaizumi visited?

“Where did you find that?” His mother sounds nervous, playing around with her hands as she stares down at the album, refusing to make eye contact with her son. “Tooru, how did you find it?”

Huh?

“What do you mean?” He asks, raising up from his position on the sofa, “where you hiding this from me all along? What-I don’t understand.”

“No,” her response comes out too fast to be genuine, and she looks at him properly for the first time that evening, “no that’s-that’s not what I mean at all.”

“Yes you do,” he says, feeling déjà vu once again except this time it’s with his own mother. She goes to reach for the album but he holds it back, staring at her incredulously, “you didn’t want me to see these? Didn’t you want me to remember?”

“No, no,” she says, hand shaky as she caresses his cheek, “it’s not that at all, Tooru of course we wanted you to remember…we just thought we’d wait for the best time. You’re still at a tender period of healing.”

“What does that even mean!? I’m fine.” He doesn’t mean to shout at his mother, but he finally, finally thought he’d remembered something only for something else to be added along the way. He’s exhausted and angry and just wants to fucking know, dammit.

He shakes her hand away from his face, glaring down at her. She bites her lip, worry glazing over her eyes, “what else do you remember? Do you remember your accident?”

He nods, lump forming in his throat. What the hell was going on?

“W-what do you remember? Was someone hurt? Do you remember seeing anyone hurt?!” She’s grabbed onto his left arm, voice abnormally high as she looks at him straight in the eyes.

“Hurt? No why-what..what? Why would anyone b-?” His sentence drops, mind racing back to the very first set of questions he had asked the doctor at the time of his accident. They never told him..but it seemed as though his mum knew.

“Why?! Do you know? Do you know if anyone was hurt?!” He’s hysterical, his brain connecting information he never wants to connect. It shouldn’t make sense, he doesn’t want it to make sense and yet it does, and it feels like his own brain is mocking him for being so late. There’s a reason it was only ever Hanamaki and Matsukawa present.

She doesn’t answer him, but she doesn’t need to. Her eyes are enough for him to know it all.

Oikawa yanks his arm out of his mother’s grip, eyes hazy as he backtracks out into the corridor and up the stairs, ignoring his name being repetitively called out.

_No no no no no no._

He locks his bedroom door, and shakily sits on his bed, unlocking his phone as he writes the date of his accident and town into the search engine. His heart drops as he clicks the first article, published a meagre 3 weeks ago.

**_Civilian wound up in an unfortunate drunk driving collision_ **

_On Friday 23 rd June, a collision between two drunk drivers led to the fatality of a civilian and 2 injured. Sato Akihiro, 28, was more than twice the drink-drive limit when his Mitsubishi truck collided with the Toyota driven by a high school student [name not disclosed] at the XXX junction after speeding through a red light. The collision caused the Toyota to skid across the road and smash against the pavement wall, unfortunately leading to a critically injured driver and a civilian death. Sato Akihiro has been sentenced to 9 years in jail._

_The fatality was 18 year old Iwaizumi Hajime, an Aoba Johsai Volleyball player who had been making his way home after meeting with his friends at Okama Park at 20:03pm._

_Sentencing Akihiro at Sendai Crown Court […]_

Oikawa re-read the line over and over again.

Hajime Iwaizumi was dead. His Iwa-chan was gone..and he was the reason behind.

He had killed his own bestfriend.

Oikawa threw his phone across the room, clasping his hands behind his neck as he brought them together, knees pulled up against his chest.

Iwaizumi was gone.

His Iwa-chan was gone forever.

_“Maybe in the future, Tooru. It’s not a bad idea.”_

Oikawa wails, the last of Iwaizumi etching itself into his memory; the pretty, lazy lift of his lips as he laughed at Oikawa. Oikawa screamed into the emptiness of his room, body jerking as snot and tears trickled down his face; his nose so blocked it made it hard to breathe. He could faintly hear his mother desperately knocking and pushing the handle down, begging him to let her in.

His screams became louder, echoing off the corners of his four walls and bouncing back to his core.

“Iwa-chan! Iwa-chan I am so sorry! Please forgive me! Hajime! I’m so sorry I should have just listened to you! I should have just let you take me out for food and this would have never happened.” He wipes his tears away roughly against his shirt, voice slowly starting to give up and become hoarse and he continues to yell.

“HAJIME PLEASE FORGIVE ME! Please..” He’s sobbing into his pillow now, hands clawing at the sheets beneath him, “please..I am so sorry. I love you, Hajime. So please let me..”

* * *

Apparently, his funeral had taken place while Oikawa was still in the hospital, his body so severely dismembered that the coffin had to remain closed during the viewing. It suddenly all made sense. Everything. The reason why his parents came to visit him so late and why Hanamaki and Matsukawa never actually came to the hospital. It wasn’t because they weren’t let in, it was because they were _grieving_ over their old friend.

Iwaizumi had been brought back to the same hospital where Oikawa was receiving treatment that day, just a few floors below. In the morgue. Oikawa chuckles dryly, he had been with him the entire evening and wasn’t even aware of it – didn’t even remember his own best friend for weeks.

When he had questioned his mother as to why they willingly let him forget Hajime, why they had hidden all types memories, his mum had sat him down and explained that this is what Iwaizumi’s mother had pleaded them all to do – so Tooru wouldn’t feel responsible for the death of his own friend.

_“It’s really not your fault Tooru,” Hajime’s mum had said, yet she refused to enter the house, “don’t blame yourself.”_

But he did blame himself. It _was_ his fault.

How could they all just accept it so easily? How did his friends still mange to come round and crack jokes with him as if he wasn’t a murderer? How was the hospital staff so forgiving? How come he came out with luck on his side when Iwaizumi was dead?

He didn’t understand; that word alone felt so foreign in his ears. _Understanding_. What did that even mean?

Oikawa refused to see anyone, staying locked up in his room for days after meeting with Hajime’s parents. His parents had endlessly knocked on his door, leaving trays of food outside his room which always remained untouched. He often heard Issei and Takahiro speak consoling words as they sat by the door, telling him _it wasn’t his fault_. But Oikawa let the barrier between them dim the weight of their words. They pitied him. They knew it affected him the most so they pitied him and forgave him solely because they knew Iwaizumi would have done the same.

Iwaizumi would have forgiven him.

He’s completely numb one night, scrolling through his social media as the flurry of reassuring messages had slowly but surely died down. Tooru clicks on Iwaizumi’s profile, tears welling up as he sees the simple 4 posts Iwaizumi had posted on his Instagram, all 4 of them involving himself.

“I miss you..” He whispers into the dark, bringing the phone down to his chest. He misses Iwaizumi so much. Misses the way the shorter boy used to hit the side of his head as a warning, misses the way Iwaizumi’s smile always lingered for days after they had won a game. He misses the way their small limbs would always end up tangled when they had sleepovers when they were younger, confined underneath the overheated blanket as they secretly played with Hajime’s Nintendo DS when they were meant to be asleep. Oikawa misses him so much and he feels his heart flip as the memories whiten his vision.

Fuck it. He can’t take it anymore.

Oikawa jumps out from underneath the blankets, walking across the room as he rummages through his drawers, pulling out the hidden full pack of painkillers he was prescribed for his injuries. He giggles, eyes adjusting to night as he pokes out each, individual pill, gathering them in his palm.

“Iwa-chan~” He singsongs, his cheeks dampening, “I’m coming to see you. I’m coming. Just you wait.”

He brings the hand to his mouth and tips his head back, swallowing the medication as he wipes away the drool.

“I love you, Hajime. Wait for me.”

**_Second Aoba Johsai Student Death_ **

_18 year old Oikawa Tooru was pronounced dead at 02:32am in his room on Saturday 20 th of July after an alleged overdose. The student seemed to have overdosed due to suffering several injuries after a tragic car accident on the 23rd of June. _

_The student, Oikawa Tooru seemed to be the captain of the volleyball team at Aoba Johsai, and was a handsome young man, lively and cheery as described by his friends. He [..]_

_“Tooru…”_

_“I’m with you Hajime. I’m finally with you.”_

**Author's Note:**

> aaaaaaah!! thank you for reading this far! let me know how you find it in the comments pleaaassseeee i would love to improve! i know its not the best written story but i tried heh. once again thank you so much <3!


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